


By Hook Or By Crook

by missema



Series: Sacraments [12]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Drabbles, F/F, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jogging, Kissing, Neighbors, Pre-SR4, President Boss, Prompt Fic, Rare Pairings, Sexual Content, Single Parents, Vacation, dead bodies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 14:06:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3853444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A place for all the AU scenarios and short fic for the Saints that are stuck in my head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bermuda - Troy/Boss Elle - T

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate universe scenarios and short fic fills featuring the Third Street Saints. Mostly from prompts. Each chapter will be a different story most likely. Pairing and rating in the title.

Prompt: our suitcases look the same and we accidentally picked up the wrong one at the airport au

 

The flight hadn’t been long, but Troy had a pounding headache by the time they touched down.  He was glad to be on vacation, in Bermuda of all places, even if he was alone.  It was a week away from Stilwater, with sunshine and pink sand beaches and plenty of things to do that didn’t include policework.

The flight hadn’t been full, but it had contained mostly senior citizens.  Besides him there were a handful of people younger than sixty - a couple clearly on their honeymoon, three giggling young women that he guessed were undergrads and a lone, tall woman in designer clothes.   She’d been besieged by some retirees during the whole flight, the older ladies talking loudly at the younger one about any and everything, but never letting her get a word in.  Troy had felt sorry for her, but the elegant woman had born it with a mostly silent good grace.

He immediately began to feel better when they entered the airport to the sounds of a band playing.  Someone was singing sweetly over the sounds of a guitar, each lyric as smooth as if it were covered in silk.  The pain in his head receded, and he was quickly shuffled through customs, passport stamped and handed back to him.  By the time he finally saw the musicians, he was smiling.  It had been almost two years since he’d gone on vacation, and it hadn’t been a full week before.  Getting a whole week had been nearly impossible, but he was owed time after so long undercover.  He’d dusted off his passport and planned to enjoy it to the fullest while he could.

The bags were offloaded without much delay, and Troy reached over to pick out his plain black suitcase.  It had a battered piece of red string attached to a handle so he could recognize it, and its only other notable feature was that it was expandable and full of his underwear.  Other than that, it was just a regular suitcase.

“Welcome to Bermuda!” a cheery young man said to him.  He was holding up a sign with Troy’s name on it, along with a few others.  He didn’t recognize any of the names, but he hadn’t talked with anyone on the flight.

He was unsurprised when the honeymooners came up to stand beside him, he had booked himself into an expensive and opulent hotel.  It was large, surrounded by ocean and golf course, away from the capital city - the kind of place people on a honeymoon might gravitate towards, he realized belatedly.  Troy hoped that they wouldn’t be in a room near his.  He didn’t need that kind of reminder that he was alone.

The last person came up to their driver, the tall, elegant black woman strode towards their group, wheeling a black suitcase.  She was striking up close, even prettier than he’d realized before.  Long black hair pulled back into a low bun, full lips colored with a lipstick that was some color between pink and brown, and truly flawless skin or perhaps really good makeup, but he thought it was the former.  He envied people with nice skin, his hadn’t cleared up until his twenties, and he had acne scars that he tried to hide with facial hair.  Troy smiled over at her, but it was missed because she turned to their driver.

“I believe I’m the last person on your list.” she said in a soft voice that sounded like it had been polished in some regal finishing school.  It held a certain affectation that made him think of that movie his mother loved - My Fair Lady.  The elegance suited her, but it wasn’t natural.  Whatever roughness she’d once had, it had been taught out of her voice, but he could hear that her sound wasn’t effortless.  He wondered who she was and why she’d been flying out of Stilwater.

They were seated and their bags loaded by the driver, and soon they were leaving St. George’s parish for other parts of the island.  It was beautiful - the skies clear blue, boats sitting on cerulean water, painted buildings in a range of pastel colors as they sped by.  Troy felt his shoulders loosen up.

The other occupants of the shuttle van were all quiet until the tall woman shifted in her seat and kicked Troy in the leg.  It didn’t hurt, but her profuse apology was immediate, and Troy took the opportunity to talk to her. 

“It’s alright, really.  No harm done.” he said as she apologized once more.  “But if you’re going around kicking me, you should at least know my name.  I’m Troy.  Troy Bradshaw”

“Elle Baker.” she said automatically and held out a slender hand.  He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to shake it or kiss it, he could reasonably have seen her expecting a kiss, but decided on a handshake.  She smiled at him, and Troy fought down a blush as he smiled back.

“Are you here on vacation?” Troy ventured.

“Not entirely, but I should have a little time to relax if my work finishes on schedule.”

“What do you do?” he asked, but it wasn’t Elle that answered.

 “You’re that model, aren’t you?” one of the honeymooners asked, holding up a magazine.  The woman in evening dress on the cover was standing with one hand on her hip, giving the camera a warm, laughing smile.  A blnd man with the look of a young Robert Redford stood next to her, arm around her waist, wearing a tuxedo.  Troy leaned forward to look it and then looked back to Elle.  That was definitely her.

 She smiled.  “Yes, that’s me.”

 “Will you sign it?” Came the next question, and she did, handing it back with the same smile on her face.  

Elle politely asked when they got married, and let them launch off into an account of their recent wedding. She nodded and looked interested, but Troy wasn’t.  After that the conversation petered out, Troy feeling monumentally out of his league.  She was on the cover of a magazine and was in Bermuda to model.  At least he had a story to tell them back in Stilwater.  He should pick up the magazine when he got to the hotel so he would have a face to match the name.

When they arrived, she got out first.  The bags were unloaded and she wheeled her bag towards the door where there was another person waiting for her.  She didn’t check in, but was taken away to a room that was waiting for her.  Troy heard her speaking in rapid French as she headed towards the elevator bank. He glanced once more at her over his shoulder while he waited in the check in line - she was really gorgeous.

There was nothing too special about his room when he got to it. There was a balcony with a partially obstructed view of the golf course, and one king sized bed.  It was, thankfully, located away from the honeymooning couple that he’d shared the van with, and sadly, probably no where near the model.  The shower called to him.  Troy was a nervous flyer at the best of times, and this had been one of only a few international trips in his life.  It had been a decent flight, but he felt grubby and in need of a change of clothes.

Both shower and bath were large and sumptuous, and since Troy had no particular place to be he decided on a very long shower.  He shucked his clothes and left them in a heap on the tile floor, then stood under a cascade of hot water.  It was glorious.  He stayed in for far longer than he would have at home, letting the water take care of the travel grime, his tense muscles and the fatigue that had wracked him since he’d finished his last case.  Feeling sufficiently waterlogged, he got out of the shower into a haze of steam and pulled on the hotel robe.  There were things on his list to do, but Troy was still tired.  Some room service and then a nap he decided.

The phone’s message light was lit, and Troy pressed it.  Someone must have called up while he was in the shower, but he hadn’t even called his parents yet to let them know he’d arrived safely.  A brisk voice from the front desk sounded in his ear.

“Mr. Bradshaw, we have your luggage at the front desk.  Please call down and a porter will bring it up to you.”

Troy was confused.  He listened once more than went over to the bag that he’d left near the door.  It was his, black and with a red string on the handle.  Except it wasn’t.  When he opened it, instead of his neatly folded polo shirts and jeans, there were nicer things.  Under a purple silk dress he found a bag with a small white bikini in it and had no doubts to whom the bag belonged.  A blush heated his face as he thought about Elle, and what she would look like wearing the miniscule swimsuit.  He shut the bag and looked at it again.  This bag, while like his from a distance, had a dark brocade pattern on it, black on black.  It would only be visible in the right sort of light.  Troy swore under his breath.

She hadn’t even checked in, so he wasn’t sure how to get this bag back to her.  He hoped the porter would take it when he came to deliver Troy’s bag, though he wished he could see her again.  She’d taken his bag, but he felt like he should be the one to apologize.  “Sorry miss, your pretty things are gone and replaced with my street clothes and faded boxer shorts.”  Maybe it was better that he didn’t speak to her again.

His eyes looked around for his carry-on bag, and finding it, went over to check it.  His passport, extra cash and a few essentials were in there, and right now it was all he had.  Good thing his mother taught him to put underwear in his overnight bag.  

He called to the front desk and had the porter come up with his bag, while he re-dressed in his old clothes and spare underwear.  When the porter got there, Troy was handed a folded note with his name on it and made to look through the bag while the porter watched to make sure nothing was missing.  On the top of his clothes sat his badge, and underneath all his possesions were there, just a little ruffled.  He realized that was probably how the model had figured out to whom the bag belonged. 

The porter stood near the door, looking stiff in his uniform of a tailcoat and Bermuda shorts.  Once Troy confirmed that his bag didn’t appear to have anything missing, he read the note he’d been handed.

“Mr. Bradshaw,

I hope this hasn’t inconvenienced you too much and I am very sorry for taking your bag by mistake.  It does look something like mine and in my rush, I picked the wrong one.  Instead of burdening the porter again, can you please bring my bag to my room?  I’m in room 2804 and will be in this evening after six.  If you’d like, we could also go down to dinner together, where I can apologize again for kicking you and taking your things.  Please ring my room and leave a message, so I know when to expect you.

 Yours Truly,

Elle Baker

“Miss Baker has requested I return her bag to her,” Troy told the porter, “and my things are all in order.  Thank you for returning the bag and delivering the note.”  

The porter nodded, took the tip Troy offered and departed, leaving him with both bags.  He was sure the only reason the porter didn’t object to him keeping Elle’s bag was because he’d read the note, but it didn’t matter.  He called her room and left the message, saying that he would meet her for dinner and bring up her bag at six, then left his room number in case she needed to call him.

Troy hadn’t thought he would see her again, not with the way she lit out of the van and away from them.  Looking at the digital clock by the bed, he saw that he had two hours until six.  That was just enough time for a nap and to call his parents and tell them that he wasn’t even one day into the vacation and he already had a dinner date.


	2. New in the neighborhood - Troy/Boss Elle - T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really liked the AU prompt - You jog shirtless past my house every morning.

Her house - her own home! Elle was so excited to finally close on the condo in the community she’d been eying for over a year, since they’d first announced it. It was just on the edge of what was considered in town, but the subway had a new stop nearby, and all sorts of stores and restaurants had cropped up around the new development. It was a lovely place, not too far out, but quiet and safe. Stilwater needed a large dose of both, in her experience and she was glad that this community had sprung up and that it was within her budget.

Getting the mortgage had been the hardest part, because she was self-employed. A substantial savings that consisted mostly of the legacy left by her parents had become her downpayment. It wasn’t all gone now, she knew better than that, but most of it was invested in Elle’s new condo and she couldn’t have been happier.

The place didn’t feel like an apartment or high rise condominium, but rather like she had a very new flat in a new house. The community had a fancy name for each different type of housing that it featured, but she could never remember the name for hers. It was just her place - a two bedroom condo on the first floor what looked like a big house from the outside, but it was really just four different units, exactly like her own. She had two underground parking spaces, a storage space, and because she was on the first floor, a front porch with an entry door and a small patch of garden. This appealed to her. Elle might not know what to do with a great deal of lawn, but a small garden she could enjoy without too much worry.

In the morning after she’d finished moving, even with all the boxes and unpacking to be done, Elle got up and began to work, taking care of her business first and everything else later. There was work to be done, and she was not going to indulge herself in even more days off when she’d taken so many during the closing and inspection and doing all the miscellaneous things that needed to be done when purchasing property.

After a struggle to find a mug and then the machine and all that was needed to make coffee, Elle made her way to the one space that wasn’t covered in boxes where she could work - her front porch. One day in, and it was already making itself useful. She didn’t have a nice set of furniture out there already, but she had a folding chair and one of those awful laptop desks that had somehow managed to stay in her house even after she’d been able to afford real furniture. It would have to do for now.

She was just settling in when the man ran past, already warmed up past a sprint and sweat shining off his bare chest. The man had a very nice body, muscular and taut, with a smattering of light brown hair down the centerline of his chest. Ok, it was more than just nice, he had the kind of physique that made her stop with her mug almost to her lips and stare. It was the kind of body that only came with a severe dedication to a fitness routine. What kind of job did he have? Did it depend on him maintaining that incredible body? Then again, she was also up at the early reaches of dawn, though her dedication was to her work. Elle hadn’t really seen his face, much to her chagrin. He was gone before she knew it, black shorts whoosing into the distance.

“Holy shit,” Elle breathed, then grinned. There hadn’t been any hot joggers when she lived with her cousin April in Stilwater. This place was looking better and better.

After the jogger went by, the wind picked up and Elle made her way back into her box-lined apartment. At least her email was read for the morning, even if she did spend the rest of her day working in bed. That’s what work from home jobs were for, right?

The next morning, Elle found herself up early again and had almost forgotten about the jogger from the day before until she heard the soft pad of fast footfalls against concrete. She looked up right as he went by, and this time, he smiled at her and kept going. She hoped she’d smiled back while he could see it, and that her goofy grin hadn’t appeared too late. The runner was headed down path towards where the ‘future phase’ of building, for all the new construction of the houses and the like. There was a lovely wooded area between the two ‘neighborhoods’ with bike and jogging paths, though Elle had only been down there once. She remembered them vaguely from her initial property visit when the home sales rep had taken her all around to show her what life at ‘Appletree Hills’ would be like.

The ringing of her phone brought her back inside before she could see the runner again. It had been on her mind to watch what building he went into, to see maybe if she could spot him going into his own townhouse or condo. It was more a curiosity than an attraction - he was quite fine to look at, but Elle didn’t know anyone at all in her new neighborhood. She didn’t want to start daydreaming about some married father with a great spouse at home and three charming children. That would just make her feel guilty later on. But her phone took her mind away from the pleasant distraction, and she went inside because she loathed taking calls in public when it wasn’t necessary. She entered her own condo, then was lost, caught up in an early morning call from her friend Shaundi. 

# 

Troy had a new neighbor. He’d seen the moving truck, but hadn’t known to whom they belonged until he started seeing her in the mornings. There had been a whole bunch of people assisting with the unloading, so he hadn’t really been sure which of them moved in. It looked like it was just the woman he’d seen on the porch living there, but he would check later. 

She was quite pretty, with dark coppery skin and an angular face. He wondered if she knew they lived in the same building and laughed softly to himself. Probably not. Every run was four circuits around the path, and she’d caught him in the middle of the run, but wasn’t there when he finished. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to bump into her in the hall or while she was getting her mail so he could introduce himself. 

The next time he saw her was two days later, and she was back on her porch in the morning. She looked up from over the screen of her laptop as he came by and he gave her a little wave. She grinned back at him and gave a small wave of her own, then it was over, he was past her and didn’t want to look foolish by looking back. There was really no good way to do that while jogging, and he thought maybe to just turn around and say hi once and for all, but he didn’t. 

He’d checked her mailbox the other day - it said “E. Baker”, but he had no inkling of her first name. If she was still out when he came in, he was stop and talk to her for a minute. He kicked his jog into a full on run, but even the burst of speed didn’t help him. When he got back around to his building, she was no longer on her porch, though her mug remained on the small table she used. It was silly to feel disappointed, wasn’t it? But he couldn’t help it, and wondered if she’d even want to talk to him. 

That night when he got off work, he saw her car, small and purple as she turned out of the complex. He would not run her plates, he would NOT run her plates - though the temptation was strong. Then things at the station got busy, and Troy had to do overtime by necessity, not choice and it was a week before he saw her again.

# 

She’d almost given up on the jogger, though she had gotten to know some of her other neighbors. There was a community cookout, and she got to know most of the other people in her building. There were Gene and Sue, a couple that were both doctors and lived on the top floor but not above her. Then there was Juanita and her wife Rian, who also lived on the first floor. The only missing neighbor was called Troy, Elle was informed by Juanita, and he was a police officer who worked a lot of overtime. With her past, Elle wasn’t sad about not meeting the cop. Even though she hadn’t so much as fractured a law in a while, her distrust of police still stuck with her.

The jogger hadn’t been at the cookout either, at least not that she’d seen. Subtle inquiries had revealed that several of the people in neighboring condos also made morning circuits along he walking paths, but none of them were her jogger. Still, she hadn’t met everyone, since the event went on for four hours and she’d bowed out after the first hour and a half. It hadn’t been soon enough to stop the overeager photographer from the sales office from snapping her picture and later publishing it in the community journal. Maybe she’d get lucky, and her jogger would see it. Not that he’d know how to contact her, but then at least, he’d know her name.

When Elle saw him again, she wondered if he’d seen that picture, if he’d gone to the cookout after she’d left and what had kept him from his morning run for so long. But she didn’t know that she’d have a chance to ask, or if he’d just run by with a wave and a smile again, running shorts swishing into the horizon as he went. 

She expected him to go by her with a wave again, but as he drew closer he slowed to a walk. Maybe he was done for the day? It could be hard to get back into any exercise after time away, as everyone knew. But he didn’t look winded or tired, just maddeningly perfect with the fading tan on his muscular chest and dark blue shorts slung low on his waist.

“Hi,” he said, still a few paces away from her.

“Hi. Haven’t seen you in a while,” Elle called out, and then waited for him to come up to her balcony. He did, smiling as he came up and stood in front of her, hands on the wooden railing.

“I’m Troy,” he said and extended one hand to her.

She shook it and answered, “Elle Baker.”

He laughed. It was a rough, low chuckle that threatened to turn into a cough. “I know. I saw the newsletter.”

Elle wasn’t sure what to say. She was pleased he had seen her, but still didn’t know anything about him. He could just be extremely friendly or tardy member of the welcoming committee. As she searched for anything to say next, he spoke again.

“So you’re my new downstairs neighbor? Work’s been busy, otherwise I would have introduced myself before now.”

“You’re the cop?” Shock made her tactless, and Elle tried to speak over her own mistake. “One of the other neighbors told me, but I hadn’t realized that you and he were one in the same.”

Troy gave her a look she couldn’t quite interpret, but then smiled. “That’s me. A cop, a jogger, probably a whole lot of other things to other people.”

“I’m sure none of them are anything but complimentary,” Elle said quickly, startling herself by flirting with him. She expected him to flirt back, to smile, but Troy wasn’t in the mood for anything so delicate it seemed.

“I’m going to take a shower, but after that, I’m going to get breakfast. Would you like to join me?” he asked. 

Elle smiled at him and nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“I’ll knock on your door in about twenty minutes,” he told her, then opened the door and disappeared into the hallway. She could hear him running up the stairs.

Elle put away her computer and poured the dregs of her coffee down the drain. When Troy turned back up, he was showered, shaved and dressed. She smiled widely as she opened the door for him, and then hummed as she locked it behind her. A breakfast date with her upstairs neighbor. Her incredibly hot, shirtless jogger upstairs neighbor that happened to be a cop. This was probably going to get awfully complicated if it went anywhere, but right then, Elle didn’t care. She liked Troy, at least so far. The future could wait while she demolished a stack of blueberry pancakes and got to know him enough to see if she even wanted to date him.


	3. Hot Cop Single Dad Pt 1 - Troy/Elle - E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt: i asked you to babysit one time and now my child keeps asking when you will spend time with them again
> 
> Troy and his daughter Yasmin both really like their neighbor Elle. It's a good thing she likes them both a lot too. Warning for a rise in heat level in this story. This is part 1 of 2.

Literally no one was around to watch his daughter Yasmin, and Troy was about to be late to yet another meeting. This was his fault - he’d forgotten that his niece had mid-terms that morning and couldn’t do her usual Tuesday half day until Yas went to school. He called her preschool, but they weren’t able to accommodate her on such short notice for the full morning, but they did say she was welcome an hour earlier, to join the others for lunch. 

His parents lived forty-five minutes away - an hour and a half round trip. There was no way he would make it back in time. Troy stood in his kitchen as his four year old ate her breakfast and drew a picture. He was scrolling through his phone, still not dressed for what was likely to be one of the most important meetings of his career. There were a few names he hadn’t yet tried, but then he came across an entry he’d almost forgotten he had. Elle, his neighbor, an actual neighbor! Troy nearly jumped for joy, but didn’t want to get his hopes up yet. 

Well, he hadn’t exactly forgotten about having her number, but it hadn’t crossed his mind this morning as he scrambled to find someone to watch Yas. He and Elle often ran into each other, and Yasmin liked her. So did Troy. She was often sketching out in the little park that abutted their building when he went out to play with Yas, and they talked a good deal. They’d had lunch together once during the summer, the three of them and Troy was pretty sure that’s when he’d gotten her number. He’d meant to call, but then work got busy, and he got word he was up for what was probably the biggest promotion of his career, then he’d gotten Yas ready for ‘pre-kindergarden’ and they started looking for a small house. It wasn’t the time for him to date.

Instead of texting, he went around to knock on her door. No sense in texting her out of the blue if she wasn’t even there. Putting Yas on his hip, he walked the few doors down to knock on her door. A mat was outside of it, a black rubber mat with decorative scrolling, but no sign of the word welcome. He hoped that wasn’t a bad omen.

She answered the door after just a minute. Elle was already up an dressed and waering makeup, which Troy hoped wasn’t a sign that she was leaving for the day. 

“Troy! Yasmin! Good morning?” 

“Sorry to bother you like this, but I need a favor. Elle, can you watch Yasmin for the morning?” There was no sense in beating around the bush, if he was going to have to find another person, he wanted to know right away.

“Sure. Is everything alright?” she asked, looking concerned.

“Just busy,” he said, running a hand through his hair. Yas had been pushing sticky fingers through it after he’d picked her up and he attempted to flatten it. His hand smelled like syrup when he drew it away. “It’s my fault. My neice watches her in the mornings for me, but she had a mid-term today and I forgot and scheduled a work meeting. Now my boss is going to be there…”

“Okay, let me get my laptop and a few other things and I’ll come to your apartment in about ten minutes,” she said.

“Really? Thank you! You’re really saving my life here,” he said to Elle, then leaning in to Yasmin. “Yas, Elle is going to watch you this morning instead of Auntie Jillian. Daddy has to go to work, but I’ll be back in time to take you to school.”

Yasmin nodded, her eyes too busy looking around Elle’s apartment at all the new and strange things she’d never seen before. When he looked back up at Elle, she was smiling at the pair of them. 

“I’ll be right over,” Elle assured him, and he left with Yasmin still on his hip. He needed to get ready himself.

#

Elle knocked on his door in less than ten minutes and Troy was finally able to get into the shower. He even had time to wash the syrup out of his hair and shave off the three days worth of stubble on his neck. By the time he’d finished dressing, Elle and Yasmin were both sitting at the table, playing some sort of drawing game. Yasmin was making up the rules as she went along, which was her favorite way to do things. Troy smiled as he fastened on his watch.

“You look nice,” Elle said to him when she looked up. She faltered for a moment then turned to Yasmin. “Doesn’t your daddy look handsome?”

He was sure that if her skin was fairer, he’d see a blush coloring her cheeks. But he couldn’t, the lovely warmth hidden by the deep copper of her skin. He let it pass without further comment, but only because he was in a hurry. 

“You look nice, daddy,” Yasmin said, echoing Elle’s first statement. He leaned over and plunked a kiss on the top of her head. 

“Thanks, pumpkin. You be good for Elle, won’t you?”

“Yes, daddy,” Yasmin said, turning back to her drawing. “Now we’re going to make wings on all the faries,” she announced. 

“Very good. I want to see it when I get home. Then I’ll take you to school,” he told her. Yasmin looked at him, then away again as he lost her attention. 

“Thanks again, Elle,” Troy said, looking over at her. She gave him a warm smile, then after he showed her the list of emergency numbers, asked her to text if she needed anything and then double checked that it was okay, he left.

It was only once he got in his car and was almost to work when he realized he needed to pay her back and had no idea how to do it. 

#

“This morning I wound up babysitting for my neighbor,” Elle said on the phone to her cousin April. “The one I told you about.”

“Hot Cop Single Dad?” April asked, and Elle made a noise of confirmation. 

Her cousin laughed. “That sounds like the name of a sitcom or some reality show. Did he pay you or was this a favor?”

“Don’t be silly. He tried to give me some cash when he came back but I wasn’t about to take it. He offered to make me dinner next week, so I said yes.”

April laughed. “So you’re finally getting your date? I thought you gave up on him.”

Elle shrugged, as if her cousin would be able to hear it over the phone. “I know he’s busy, and he told me that he’s up for a promotion to captain. Plus it’s not like a date, his daughter is going to be there. We’re just being friendly I think.”

“Where’s her mother?” April asked, getting right to the point.

“She’s passed on, at least that’s what Yasmin told me. She said her mommy was an angel this morning. I’ve never asked Troy about it. I assumed he was divorced.” She took a breath, but April didn’t say anything, so Elle went on. “Yasmin’s a cute kid, really smart and funny. We mostly drew pictures, acted out stories and watched shows this morning.”

“Don’t fall for the kid if he isn’t worth it,” April cautioned.

“I know,” Elle said. But she as almost certain Troy was worth it.

#

“Daddy, when is Elle coming over to play again?” Yasmin asked, standing over her father as he lay in bed the next morning. “She’s good at drawing. We did it yesterday.”

It was a cold morning, and Troy shivered, wishing he’d bothered to put on more than his boxers and a tshirt before collapsing into bed the night before. Fall was here for real after a few false starts. He shuffled his feet under the quilt, trying to get them warm.

“She’s not coming over, pumpkin. Not today. Maybe this weekend.”

“Can we go to her door this morning and get her like before?” Yasmin asked. Troy thought about yesterday morning and sighed. All that work and he hadn’t even gotten an answer about his promotion, or anything more than a vague mention of ‘things to come’. 

“Not today, Yasmin. Can you go in your room and play while I get dressed?” he asked, knowing that it was futile. 

It was as if she hadn’t heard him. Little legs clambered into his bed over him and his daughter curled into a warm little ball next to him. Troy looked over her little head at his clock. It wasn’t even six yet. Fuck it, he decided. Instead of getting up, he let himself be lulled back into sleep with his daughter nestled in his chest, her small, quick heartbeat somehow calming him.

The next thing he knew, it was just after eight. Yasmin wasn’t in bed with him anymore, but someone was knocking on the door. He hurried to the front room, calling out for Yas as he did. Troy got no answer, because Yasmin was on the other side of the door with Elle.

“Special delivery,” Elle said, as he let her into the apartment. She was holding Yas in her arms, and the two of them were both sporting the same hairstyle, a set of French braids on either side of their heads, parted down the middle.

“Yas! Wait, how did this happen?” Troy asked. He was still sleepy and befuddled, but awake enough to appreciate Elle was in her pajamas too.

“I heard a little knock at my door half an hour ago. I thought it might be a delivery or something so I opened it, and there was Lady Yasmin. We tried to call your phone, but we couldn’t get you. So we came over and knocked, but no answer. She said you were sleep, so we braided our hair princess style and had a little cereal before we came back to see if you were up.”

“Yasmin,” Troy was beyond exasperated. “What am I going to do with you?! Say goodbye to Elle and THANK YOU. You have to go to your room.”

“Buh-bye, Elle. Thank you.” Her thanks came with a wet kiss to Elle’s cheek, and then Troy took her to her room. He hugged her fiercely, heart racing in the aftermath of finding out she was missing. He sang her a song and convinced her to watch a movie, though he knew it wouldn’t hold her interest for long.

Elle was still in the living room when he came back. “I can’t begin to thank you. I’m so sorry,” he said immediately. “She wanted to see you again, she kept asking this morning but it was five and I thought she’d go back to sleep with me. I don’t even know how she got out.”

“It’s alright. I had fun yesterday too,” Elle said. Troy watched her watching him for a moment, then realized he was twisting a dishtowel in his hands and put it down. 

“Thank you for finding her, for keeping her safe. I’m going to have to start putting the chain on the door.”

“Yeah, I think you did.” Elle pointed to a chair pushed over to the door as she said it, and Troy wanted to smack himself. He hadn’t realized she knew how to get the chain off, but apparently Yas was way ahead of him. 

“How did she learn this? Sneaking out already. Oh, God. Now you’re going to think I’m the world’s worst dad or something.”

Elle giggled. “I promise I don’t. You’re obviously overwhelmed though. Cute, but a little overwhelmed right now.”

“Oh, I’m cute, am I?” Troy asked, brightening for the first time since he’d been awakened by her knock. 

“You know you are.” She grinned at him, and he found himself smiling back at her. “I’m usually free in the mornings and I get up early, for the most part. If she wants to visit with me while you get ready for work, I have no problem with that,” Elle said.

“Then when do I get to see you?” Troy asked before he could stop himself.

“I’m sure that will work itself out one of these nights,” Elle said, smiling at him. “I need to get dressed. We can still have dinner if you’re up for it. Turn your ringer on, Troy.” He got the feeling she was saying more than just to keep his phone on, which it should have been, but he let it be what it was for the moment.

He walked with her the few short steps across the living room and she paused at the door. Turning back to him, she asked, “do you really want to see me? You never called before.”

Troy groaned, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, then let it fall to his side as he tried to explain. “That was right when my schedule changed. It was all supposed to be part of this big promotion. I thought it would settle down, but it hasn’t yet. I’m sorry.” Troy reached for her hand and took it. “I always have Yasmin. Her mother is gone, and I thought that if I wanted to get to know you, I should find the time to do it right.”

“Okay. I can accept that. So what’s next?” Elle asked.

“I thank you again, profusely, for your kindness today and yesterday. Then you tell me more about how cute you think I am.”

Elle laughed and let her hand slip from his. “On Saturday?”

“Saturday around eight,” he confirmed.

#

Yasmin was already bathed and in bed when Elle came over for dinner. Troy planned it that way, of course, but it still seemed like a miracle that he pulled it off. It was one thing to see Elle when they went for walks but introducing her into Yasmin’s life would need to be gradual. He didn’t want to date her a few times, realize they weren’t going to make it and have Yasmin asking to go over there even more. His daughter already wouldn’t stop talking about Elle and how they’d played games and she’d braided Yasmin’s hair. She seemed to like Yasmin, which was a good thing. Even if she wound up not being able to stand Troy, at least she still might see Yas from time to time.

All of this was filling his head as he made his second dinner for the night, and poured two glasses of wine. Elle knocked at the door and he opened it right away, so it didn’t wake up Yas. She handed him a bottle of white wine. 

“Hey. You look great,” Troy said as he shut the door behind her. 

She wasn’t dressed up, but he was coming to appreciate her sense of style. Elle wore jeans that seemed like they were sculpted to fit her long legs and a slouchy long sleeved shirt that slid down off one shoulder and a pair of sneakers. Her hair was pulled into a long ponytail of her natural curls, wild and bushy at the nape of her neck. He’d changed after Yasmin’s bath, but he hadn’t put much thought into it. He’d put on his favorite green half-zip sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans, which he thought must have looked good by the approving look she gave him. 

“Thanks, you look good too. Cute, even.” He laughed. “Has Yasmin gone to bed?” she asked, looking around the room he’d just picked up before she knocked.

“I thought it was best to keep her on her schedule. I’d never get her to sleep if she knew you were here.”

Elle laughed softly, but nodded. “She’s a sweet girl, Troy, she really is. Something smells really good,” she said and followed him to the table.

They made chit chat over dinner, drinking the first bottle of wine and starting in on the one she brought. Troy had to admit it was going well, even when if he had to take a few breaks to check on Yas. Elle was funny, sweet and flirting wildly with him. When he came back to the table, he found her clearing her place from the table. 

“You aren’t leaving already, are you?” Troy asked.

“Just trying to be helpful,” she said shotting him a smile over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t want you to think I didn’t appreciate dinner.”

“You don’t have to do that. You already helped with Yas on Tuesday and then after she broke out of the house.”

“I do like your new lock,” Elle said, and glanced towards the door. 

Maintenance had come at his urgent request and installed a child safety lock. He hated it, he had to unlock the deadbolt first and then turn the doorknob at the same time as the lock if he wanted to open the door. Fortunately from the other side, it just needed another key. But it at least had stopped Yasmin from getting out of the house anymore. 

Troy didn’t say all of that to Elle, he didn’t even answer. He just gave in to his overwhelming desire and kissed her. At first there was a little surprise in her answering kiss, but then he felt her respond with vigor. Troy wasn’t sure who opened their mouth first, but then there were tongues and he could feel her hands on his chest underneath his sweater, tugging his tshirt from his waistband so she could touch his skin. He pulled away to breathe and then kissed her again, this time letting his lips catch her neck and chin before going back towards her mouth. When he broke apart a third time, she pulled him back into their kiss before he knew it. 

“I want you,” she whispered into his ear, and that was all it took to crumble Troy’s feeble resistence. 

They made their way to his bedroom in a tumble of kisses, overeager groping and some cautious whispers and giggles. A hand slid up her shirt to where he delightedly found she wore no bra. Troy felt her moan as his thumb grazed a taut nipple and he felt his erection strain his jeans. When they got to his room and shut the door, he was half out of his sweater and helping her out of her clothes.

When they were mostly naked, he rolled them both onto the bed. He felt her laugh softly against his shoulder, and he smiled into the darkness. Troy kissed her deeply, the two of them laying in the bed together with only the streetlight to illuminate them. A strip of light fell across his bed and she lay in it, naked but for a pair of panties. He pulled away from her to take off the shirt he’d been waring under his sweater and got a good look at her lithe body.

“You’re so beautiful,” Troy said and saw her grin up at him. 

Troy lost no time getting back to her, closing the distance that had allowed him to glimpse her gorgeous, mostly nude body. Their kissing was more like sparring now; mouths that were heated and demanding clashed, teeth and tongue and hard pressure under soft lips. Elle’s hand had been pinned between them, but she shifted and regained her leverage. The newly freed hand went right for the front his boxers, fondling him through the thin fabric. A pleased groan came out from behind his gritted teeth. God, yes. It had been so long since anyone but him had touched his cock. 

Heat radiated outward from his groin, making him sweat like he’d been running after a suspect. He was panting too, their kissing more haphazard as his breathing turned ragged. Elle’s hand was inside of his boxer shorts now, stroking him with gentle pressure, squeezing just enough to make him shudder. Troy was either going to come in her hand or flip her over and fuck her until neither one of them could remember their names. Then a dim green light blinked and he heard static. He looked over Elle’s shoulder towards his nightstand and faltered. 

Generally, Troy was thrilled when hot women in his bed fondled his cock, and he most definitely liked Elle. But he couldn’t, not now. He’d lost his head momentarily, because he did like her so much, and had for as long as he’d known her, because she was interested, beautiful and sweet to his child. His baby girl, who was sleeping not very far away. The baby monitor on his nightstand crackled one more time and then faded out. Yasmin was down the hall. He’d never had sex with anyone while she was home, but he definitely didn’t want it to end with Elle. How did other people do this? Just the reminder of his daughter and he felt the lust around him breaking up. Even though he was still hard, he knew it wasn’t going to last long enough to be meaningful. Instead he moved back from her hands, catching them in his. 

“Let me please you,” he said, his voice low in Elle’s ear. He let a finger trail down her skin as he spoke and felt her gasp but waited for her assent before going on. She gave him one word, a yes that came out like a hiss.

She was already near the edge of the bed, so he slid off and got to his knees. Troy let his hand skin over her panties for a moment, taking care to guage her reaction to his touch and then pushed them aside. There were only light, quick touches of his tongue at first, figuring out what she liked and how much teasing she could take. He rubbed his nose against her clit and felt her body jerk underneath him. Elle was so, so wet, and he increased the pressure of his tongue. 

When Troy slid a finger inside of her, he felt her almost come around it. With that encouragement, he set to pleasing her with a renewed gusto. Just once he glanced up and saw Elle with her back arched upwards, clutching fistfuls of his sheets. He could feel her feet on his back, heels urging him deeper. He complied with their unsaid demands, suckling her clit until she convulsed around him.

He made her come hard with a breathless, almost quiet scream, felt her silent body stiffening, heard her muffle the rest of her whimpers in his pillow. His knees ached, and he gratefully got back into bed with Elle, breathing heavily. She was still shivering, quaking, her own hands skimming over her breasts. It was so fucking alluring. He watched her palm her breasts, rubbing gently at the hard tips with the flat palm of her hands, shuddering deeply as the sensation teased her sensitive body. Troy wanted her so badly, but his body wasn’t cooperating, not anymore. The ghost of a crackle had him looking over towards the nightstand, but the baby monitor was silent.

When she came down she reached for him again, to resume where she’d left off before Troy’d turned his attention to her, but his dick was done for the night. Worries that Yasmin would interrupt them had crept into their time together and he knew he couldn’t regain the reckless fervor he’d felt in the kitchen when he’d first kissed her. 

“Probably not going to happen tonight,” he admitted to Elle, as her hand stroked gently up and down the length of him. He could make a joke, blame it on his age, but nothing came to mind. She didn’t say anything either, and Troy wasn’t sure if that was worse or better.

Elle was good about them not getting together right then and curled against his chest, letting go of his cock and turning more affectionate. Troy could deal with a little hugging and kissing, and held her close. She was languid in his arms, her soft skin a soothing contact where it touched his own. After about ten minutes, she got up and used his bathroom then re-dressed. He wasn’t sure what to say. It seemed too cliche to give her the ‘this never happens to me’ line. So he said nothing, wishing that the moment wasn’t over but a little relieved that it was. He walked her to the door, feeling the awkward tension rising between them. She kissed him and left, leaving him alone to check on the sleeping Yasmin. 

Troy stood in Yasmin’s door, listening to her breathing. She was deep in sleep, her pajama top rolled up over her tiny belly. It was just after midnight. Time for him and his sad, unsucked cock to go to bed.

 

#

The next morning he felt increasingly uneasy about the night before. Troy had wanted Elle, God he wanted her still, but he hadn’t been able to let himself go. It just was too much, his mind couldn’t relax and just enjoy it and things fizzled out from there. Elle had seemed alright with it in the end, but Troy wasn’t sure how much of that was real. 

It was both a good and a bad day for him to be distracted. Sundays he usually visited his parents, and the roads were clear that afternoon as he made his way there with Yasmin. The passenger seat next to him was empty afer he got his daughter settled in the back, and Troy couldn’t help but wonder if he’d screwed it all up with Elle. Maybe this was going to be it for him - a succession of furtive one night stands and an attempted relationship thwarted at inception. At least Yasmin could play with her cousins today, and Troy could brood in silence with his father.

“Come on, pumpkin, wake up. We’re at Grammy and Poppy’s house,” Troy said, waking Yasmin a little later. 

“Will Elle be there?” she asked. Like father, like daughter he guessed. Elle was still on his mind too.

“No, not today. Let’s go in and see your cousins and your toys,” he said, trying for a bit of distraction. 

It worked, but only on Yasmin. He still remained mired in thoughts of Elle and the wreck of the date from the night before. If only he’d put that damn thing away, but whenever he tried, he felt certain that something would go wrong. He wondered what might have been the night before, if he’d done the right thing letting it go so far. He hadn’t been thinking with the right head, that was for sure. Now he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to see her again, and if he did, could he even show his face.

His father caught him by the sleeve not long after they arrived. He directed them into the hallway, away from where his sister kept watch over the kids, but not so far as the kitchen where the rest of his family sat around the table.

“You look like you need to talk, Troy.”

Troy wasn’t sure what to tell his father about the previous night. ‘Oh I finally got to have dinner with this woman I’ve liked for ages, and we’re both ready to fuck until the baby monitor my daughter outgrew years before but I can bear to get rid of went off.’ Yeah, he wasn’t going to say that, so he just shook his head.

“You sure?” his dad asked.

“C’mon, Pop, it’s nothing. Work stuff. I’m just tired today,” Troy said. That wasn’t a complete lie, but it took his father a moment to accept it.

“Alright. Troy, it will be whatever it’s gonna be. You shouldn’t worry so much, you’re good at your job. We’re all proud of damn proud of you here. Stilwater’s a dangerous place.”

It was good to know how his dad felt. They weren’t stoic and unfeeling, but they didn’t normally get into stuff like this on casual visits. It lifted his mood a little, and Troy was able to put some of the night before behind him. 

“Thanks. No really, I appreciate hearing it, especially today.”

“Anytime, son. Try not to worry so much, Troy. It’ll make you old before your time.”

Troy glanced back at the room with Yasmin was loudly playing with her cousins and then shared a look with his dad. They both chuckled as someone in the room squealed, “I WIN!” loud enough to alert everyone in the tri-county area. 

#

“Hot Cop Dad hasn’t called yet?” Shaundi asked as they were shopping. 

It was Monday evening, usually a time to rest, but the only time that Elle liked to go to the mall. It was suitably empty of most shoppers, save a few teenagers and harried after work commuters. She needed retail therapy, and online it was far too tempting to overspend. At least out with Shaundi, she’d get what she needed for work and someone to talk to.

“No, but he texted,” Elle said, aware that the even saying that made her sound desperate. 

Her voice was too faux hopeful about the text, but she hadn’t been able to reel it in. She really, really liked Troy and felt like this awkward situation was fucked beyond her ability to repair. It was like he was way into her until he realized they were going to actually have sex, and then he wasn’t. She wasn’t sure what to make of the whole night, which she would have said was going well up until he somehow lost his erection, tried to keep going, couldn’t and then sat in the bed with her uncomfortably until she got up and got dressed.

“Let me see it,” Shaundi said, and Elle handed her phone over. 

The texts read: hey, I hope you’re okay. busy at work this week but can maybe see you on the weekend if you want?

She pretended to browse a display of eye shadow while Shaundi read them, observing her friend out of the corner of her eye. Absently, she picked up a shade of olive green, then set it back down again as she waited for Shaundi. Shaundi read them quickly, rolled her eyes and handed the phone back to Elle.

“Well he does want to see you again, or so he says,” Shaundi said. Her tone was a little grim and Elle thought she knew why.

“But it’s strange, right? Like he could have called and it would have been nicer. Or if he stopped by. But a text just seems like not enough, not after Saturday night.”

Shaundi shrugged. “I guess Sounds like a polite version of ‘maybe, but not now’. He’s going through some stuff at work right? That’s probably all it is, really. You should call him and see what’s up. If he doesn’t answer, forget about him.” She waved a tube of a warm brown shade of lipstick in front of Elle, “this would look good on you.”

The advice was pragmatic and probably what she would have said, if the roles had been reversed, but it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Elle studied the tube and said nothing. She didn’t want to call Troy, or worse - run into him. She just wanted him to say everything was okay, that he still liked her and by the way let’s just skip all this awkwardness and kiss some more. 

She let Shaundi talk over her thoughts, and then pushed Troy out of her mind. She wasn’t going to let him overrule her love of trying and buying new cosmetics. Maybe she’d get a hat too, a cute little chunky wool hat for winter. Then once she was cute, she’d contrive to run into him again and let him see what he was missing. If he didn’t call her that was. She was still going to get a hat.


	4. Hot Cop Single Dad Pt 2 - Troy/Elle E

There was really no telling when he was going to get home tonight. It was his last night on shift at this precinct, and they wanted to take Troy out for drinks to celebrate. It wasn’t everyday that one of their own was made captain, even if he was leaving. His departure and promotion gave them all the more reason to celebrate.

Going out for drinks meant, at least with his friends and coworkers, that they stopped when someone was comatose. There were designated drivers and taxis, but Troy drove himself. He had to do a least a little, and he wanted to go out. They were good people, good officers, and he was proud to be one of them. Let them celebrate for once. He’d earned their congratulations, the pats on the back, the offers of drinks.

Yasmin was safe with his parents, so he was alright there. When his people went out, they did it the way they would any tough mission, en force. They went to their favorite neighborhood dive bar. It was Friday night, early, and filled with off-duty cops even before the celebration showed up. More people than he really knew, and he knew most of them, at least by name. They just wanted to drink, and he was a good enough reason.

There was general milling about for a few minutes, until Troy made it to the bar. A glass of cold lager was pressed into his hand. He sipped it, declined offers of more and walked and talked. Sitting would hamper him, keep him here longer than he wanted. This was nice, but not the way he wanted to celebrate. His thoughts were drifting towards making a stealthy exit when Martin cornered him.

“Hey, Troy! Congrats, man, congrats! You need a drink?” Martin asked. He was a beefy beat cop that graduated the academy in the class after Troy’s. Shane Martin was loyal, steady and drunk off his ass.

“Nah,” Troy said, shaking his head. “I’m gonna get going soon.”

“What? You’re leaving before the party even gets started?”

“My girlfriend doesn’t know yet. I should surprise her,” Troy said.

Martin clapped him on the shoulder with entirely too much force. Troy winced but didn’t say anything. It was a little lie, since Elle wasn’t his girlfriend, but he hoped that it was just ill-timed. Maybe if he explained right, she would be after tonight. If not, well, he’d try again. Martin was oblivious to Troy’s whirring mind, bring him back to the present with another thump to his side and a knowing grin.

“Best congratulations you’re gonna get tonight and she won’t even have to say a thing,” Martin said, laughing in deep booms as he did.

Troy nodded and moved away, heading closer to the door. He was stopped a few more times on his way out, but within fifteen minutes of deciding to leave, he was heading home. Now he only had to worry about whether Elle would see him or not. He debated texting, but decided not to. He wasn’t that far from home now and an apology face to face would go a lot further than words on a screen. That was the hope, anyway.

#

It was about fifteen mintues to midnight on Friday and Elle was already in her pajamas. Nothing more to do but be on her way to bed, sadly alone. There had been nothing from Troy, but she had begun to suspect their wouldn’t be any more from him. She’d given in and texted him that she’d be around this weekend, but heard nothing back. It was done then.

It had begun to frost over at night and the cold made the heat come on and stay on as she got into bed. She had on new thermal pajamas that might have seemed like overkill if she couldn’t feel the wind coming through her walls. They’d been one of her purchases when she’d been out with Shaundi earlier in the week, and she was glad she’d gotten them. It was cold and her heavier blankets were still in storage. Time to break them out.

Without considering Troy, it had been a good week. She’d made a few new beauty videos, straightened her hair, got sent some good samples, and booked a new client for a consultation. All in all, a successful week, but as she put herself to bed that night, she realized what was wrong. It was that she’d had such high hopes for Troy - a young, smart, attractive guy with a career and who was loving and careful with his daughter - he’d always seemed interested and like a good catch. Now that chance was gone.

Before Elle could sink any lower, there was a knock at her door. She wasn’t expecting anyone that wouldn’t call first. It couldn’t possibly be Troy. She hadn’t even seen him all week, and he hadn’t answered her text. A quick look out the peeophole proved her wrong. It was him at the door, and it was too late to try and look sexy or nonchalant. She was in thermal pajamas with a silk hair bonnet on her head. At least the bonnet she could take off and stow away on the shelf next to her door. She shook out her hair and opened the door for him.

“Can I come in?” he asked, and she stepped aside.

“What’s up?” Elle asked, eyeing him.

He looked tired, he had stubble growing in unevenly on his chin and there were bags under his eyes. Maybe Shaundi had been right about the job stress. It almost made her feel bad enough to forget how upset she’d been in bed not long before. It made her realize that she knew very little about being what Troy did. He was a cop, sure, but he didn’t walk a beat in a uniform or do traffic stops.

“I wanted to apologize for going MIA after Saturday. Work’s been rough, but I was happy to get your text the other night,” he said.

She folded her arms over her chest, blocking where his gaze kept wandering. “You never answered.”

“I know, but I came over as soon as I could. I’m sorry it’s so late.” Troy ran a hand through his hair and looked away from her, then turned back. “Do you really want to date me, because it’s me and Yasmin, not just me. I think you’re wonderful, but if you don’t want us, both of us, then it’s not going to be anything.”

Oh. Elle felt the pieces coming together as she thought about her reply. Of course she wanted both of them in her life, but she could see how it would give Troy pause before initiating a relationship.

“I understand, and I do. Want to be with you. I do. I think the world of Yasmin, and you.” This wasn’t coming out the way she needed to say it; the way she wanted him to hear it, so she motioned to her couch and offered to take his coat.

Wow, when she said Troy didn’t wear a uniform, it was just because she’d never seen him in his before. He was certainly wearing one now. Last weekend had confirmed that Troy had a great body, but his uniform, with its crisp lines and tailoring, served to accentuate it. She almost gaped, but caught herself in time, and distracted herself by heading to the kitchen before she started staring. She got both of them beers and came back to where he stood near her loveseat. That’s when she noticed a glint of gold near his neck.

“You got the promotion,” Elle said, looking at him for confirmation. Two bars glinted on his collar, looking like gilded railroad tracks. They signified the rank of captain.

“I did,” he said, smiling tiredly at her.

“That’s wonderful, Troy! Congratulations! Feels good, doesn’t it?”

His real smile appeared as he said, “yeah, yeah it does.”

She settled into the seat and he waited for her to sit before seating himself. He took the beer she offered and they both took a drink, waiting for the other to speak first. She did, asking the question that had been burning in her mind for a while.

“Where’s Yasmin’s mother?”

“Dead. Overdose. We weren’t together when it happened, and she’d already let me have sole custody of Yas. I hadn’t known at the time how involved she was with the Carnales, or at least, some of their products.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Internal affairs reviewed me for some time after our relationship was over.”

“When was this?” she asked. Troy had lived here when she moved in almost two years ago.

“Three years back. She’d barely had Yasmin before we broke up for good. I moved here into a bigger apartment when I started fighting for custody. Maria’s parents gave me a hard time at first, but she didn’t. I think she knew that things were going downhill for her. Her brother died in some gang action just before she went into labor. He was shot. Lingered for a while, but then he didn’t make it.” Troy exhaled after speaking, then took a long drink.

“Anyway, she left where she was staying when Yas was six months old, and no one was sure what happened to her. Went missing for a while with no warning. Just up and left one day after we’d settled our agreements. She’d just been by to see Yasmin, but we got into a fight because she came over while she was high on something. They found her in an abandoned house about a month later, no foul play. One day I might have to tell Yasmin all of this, and I’m dreading it.”

Elle reached out to Troy, and he let her take his free hand. She stroked the rough skin between his thumb and forefinger, just silent, waiting. He had hands like a laborer, like someone that used them all the time without regard for how tender they could be. When he finally looked up at her, she said, “I’m so sorry.”

“I am too. We weren’t meant to be together, but Maria was a good person, deep down. She just had demons that I never knew about. At first, she was happy we were having a baby. I was too, after I was done being shocked and drinking.” Troy laughed, this time the sound truer. “You know, I used to smoke. All the time. Gave it up.”

Elle smiled at him and realized he’d folded his hand into hers, lacing their fingers together while he spoke. “It wasn’t you, you know. Last weekend. The fucking baby monitor went off and I’ve never been with anyone with Yas around, especially not someone she knows. It threw me off. She’s so crazy about you, she talks about you all the time. I just couldn’t, not then.”

“Troy,” Elle began, but stopped.This was a lot to take in all at once, and she felt suddenly sad. “We can wait. I really would wait if you needed more time.”

He shook his head at the suggestion.“I just want to wait until I tell Yasmin that I care for you, that you’ll be around more. I want you to want to be around more, not just to say it. Let’s give it some time before we bring her into this. Right now she thinks you’re her cool new friend, who does fancy braids that daddy can’t do. If it doesn’t work out, I don’t want her to think her friend abandoned her.”

That was an aspect Elle hadn’t considered, but it made perfect sense. It also explained why she hadn’t started seeing Troy and Yasmin every morning. He wasn’t avoiding her; he was taking care of his daughter. He was about to make her heart explode in the best possible way. Troy was kind, conscientious and responsible. He loved his daughter, and he’d come to explain, which was better than just an apology.

“It’s late,” Elle observed, then added, “where’s she now?”

“With my parents. I knew this was going to be a long day, so she’s there for the weekend. I’m getting transferred to the North Precinct next week, and I’m back to a day schedule. Early days, but still easier to do than second shift.”

“What about tomorrow?”

Troy gave her a sidelong look and a smirk. That smirk, framed in stubble, almost seemed like it belonged to someone else. It was the way he’d look at her across the bar after sending her a drink, or maybe after she’d sent her phone number in return. It was the way a younger, less burdened Troy would have let know that he found her cute while they made flirty conversation. She liked Troy as he was, but she could see glimpse of a guy that used to smoke outside of bars and dated the wrong women in that smirk. It made her legs turned to jelly.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, but he sounded like he already knew.

“When I said I wanted you, it wasn’t limited to right then,” Elle said, and leaned in to kiss him.

He was just as intent as he’d been before, but this time not as rushed. They took their time, letting their kisses build in intensity and heat. Elle kissed him sweetly, taking time to appreciate the softness of his mouth, the way Troy brushed her hair from her face and the muddled color of his eyes. When she realized she was almost sitting on his lap, her hands ready to unbutton some of his uniform, she disentangled herself and got up. She held out her hand, and Troy took it, getting to his feet.

“Are you sure?” Elle asked once he was standing next to her. They were still holding hands.

“Absolutely.”

With his affirmative answer, she took the lead and showed him into her bedroom. The light on the nightstand was still on and the quilt rumpled. Troy let go of her hand, and she sat down on the bed, waiting for him to join her.

Instead, Troy stood at the end of the bed, not making any move to go further. She wondered if he were having second thoughts when he spoke.

“Tonight I told you a lot about me, but you didn’t tell me much about you.” He gave her a cocky grin. “Doesn’t seem fair, does it”

“You want to know something?”

“Yeah. And you want me to join you in the bed. So I think that we can play for some parity here. You answer a question, and then I lose a piece of the uniform,” Troy said, still grinning at her.

Elle wasn’t going to give up her edge without a fight. “Can I help you out of them?”

“Yes, but I pick which pieces.”

“Ask away,” she said, and Troy gave her a thoughtful look.

“I know you’re a makeup artist, you told me that before, but what do you do?” he asked, startling her with his genuine question.

This wasn’t the first time people had confessed confusion about her job. They thought of makeup artists as working on movie sets or with exclusively famous people all the time. The truth was that a good many people liked to have their makeup done, and very few of her clients were famous.

“Well, I have a blog. I make videos and posts about makeup and how to achieve different looks. I have working relationships with some hair stylists, who book me to work with their clients on photoshoots and weddings and things like that,” she explained. There was more, but she was’t going to get into it when short answers were in her best interest.

“Pays well?”

“Decently enough, if you’re smart about keeping up with your contacts and blogging and advertising. That’s two questions,” she informed him.

“So it is. Help me take off my cufflinks.” He held out his arms to her. She pouted at him, and Troy chuckled. “You won’t be able to get the shirt off if you don’t take them off first.”

“They count as one piece. It’s a set.”

“Then you should take off my belt too,” Troy said, his voice low as she moved towards him.

“Another question?” Elle prompted, feeling her pulse quicken as she began undressing Troy. She moved slowly, drawing it out his disrobing so she wouldn’t have to stop for too long between each piece.

“Got any family I should know about?” Troy asked.

“Not a lot. I’m an only child and my parents died when I was younger, so my aunt Charley and my cousin April are my closest family now. I used to live with April until I got my cosmetology license and was able to support myself,” she said.

He stopped her hands with his and Elle looked up into his eyes. “I didn’t mean to bring up anything bad.”

“You didn’t. It was a long time ago. I miss them, but it’s a well-healed wound,” Elle said truthfully.

There was sympathy in his look all the same, warming his eyes as he squeezed her hands affectionately. Troy lifted them to his mouth and kissed each palm in turn, then set them on the front of his chest. She got the message and loosened his tie until she could undo the knot. He studied her as she worked.

“How aren’t you a model?” he asked, and she wasn’t sure if he was serious or not.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re at least six feet tall and amazingly beautiful. You never considered modeling?”

“You know, you’re already in my bedroom,” Elle joked, but Troy was earnest in his response.

“I’m serious. You’re gorgeous.”

She shrugged, flattered and confused by his estimation of her looks. Her hands were still on his chest, and she looked at them instead of meeting his gaze.

“It just was never something I thought about. It seemed like a job for other women. I thought I wanted to be a teacher for a while, but I’m glad I went into cosmetology.”

Her hands made to unbutton his shirt and he didn’t stop her. “You didn’t wear the formal uniform?” she asked. Typically she saw police administrators always dressed formally, with their uniform jacket and a shirt and tie underneath. Troy was just wearing the shirt and tie.

“My jacket needed to be replaced and the one they ordered for me was way too short in the arms. I’ll get another, but who can say when, knowing the department.” He shook off the shirt she’d unbuttoned, letting it fall to the floor. He had on a white t-shirt underneath and atop it rested a small golden cross on a chain. It looked old, like he’d worn it for a long time, but it hadn’t lost its luster.

Troy was broad about the shoulders, a fact that hadn’t exactly escaped her notice before, but made him seem impossibly wide as he stood in her bedroom. The room was filled with him, with his presence with how deliberate and carefully he’d chosen to have Elle take off his clothes. She swallowed back some of her excitement, suddenly aware of the anticipation that was building between them. It hummed through the air, ramping up with each discarded piece of clothing, every stray touch of skin.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Troy asked.

“The first time I saw you, or the first time we talked?”

“The first time we talked,” he said. His voice had a certainty to it that felt like a challenge. Elle closed her eyes and thought.

“You lived here before I did. I remember you holding the elevator for me during the first summer I lived here. Oh wait, no, we didn’t talk then besides a thank you. The first time we ever talked was in the fall, I was outside sketching. Yasmin asked what I was doing and you told her not to bother me, but I let her draw in my book.”

Troy was smiling at her when she opened her eyes. “Was that what you were thinking of?”

“I thought you were just being nice, but then we saw you again and you asked her if she’d drawn anything. It was sweet. You remembered her name, called her by it.”

“I forgot yours though,” Elle said, remembering. She lowered her hands to his waistband but just let them sit there.

“I liked that about you. You remembered Yasmin, but not to get to me. Just because you wanted to talk to her again.”

She felt his breath catch as she unzipped his pants, and gave them only the slightest push down so they could pool at his feet. He didn’t step out of them, but Elle could feel that he wanted to be rid of them. There was an urgency playing beneath his veneer of calm.

“I liked you, but I thought you were married. Did you like me?”

“You’re joking, right? I kept hoping to run into you, just to have a reason to talk to you,” Troy said, and she noticed that frustration had finally crept into his voice. Her hands rested near the hem of his shirt, but she didn’t lift it. He did and she let go of the fabric, fingers restless without anything more of his to take off.

Troy was left standing there in his boxer shorts and socks, but Elle didn’t dare go forward. With his shirt and pants gone, she decided that it was her turn to relinquish some clothing. She took off the set of thermal pajamas she no longer needed to chase away the cold, her skin warm with the nearness of him, keenly aware of how few clothes were between them. There was nothing underneath her top, and with its removal, nothing keeping Troy playing his game.

Neither one of them realized they’d moved until they were kissing. She was eager, hungry, and it came out in her rapacious kiss. The heat of her kisses were fed by the enthusiasm of his tongue, coaxing, teasing, daring her to meet his advances. Skin met skin and without heed to their meandering game of undress, the rest of their clothes disappeared in a trail that led to the bed. They left the light on this time as she and Troy fell back onto the bed together. It was very different from the week before, and for that she was glad.

With one hand, she fished the condoms from her nightstand and handed them to him. She kissed the freckles on his shoulders as he settled himself, rubbing her leg against him like a cat. Elle liked the feeling of just being there with him, enjoying the way he felt. Troy kissed her deeply, starting at her lips and working his way down. This time, she wasn’t going to miss her chance. She tried to move him along, back up from her neck before he could get any further.

“A little patience,” he whispered in her ear. She shivered at the feeling of his breath on the shell of her ear. It was just a little thing, but the sensation was almost too much for her.

He did move faster then, running his tongue over her nipple with a questing hand between her legs. Troy touched her wetness and worked a finger inside of her, his thumb teasing her clit as he did. Elle wasn’t thinking anymore, she couldn’t stop herself arching into even the least of his touches. A conversation was happening, one where he was asking the questions and listening for her responses. He was nothing if not diligent — a trait that she imagined served him well as a detective. Then she was answering him, clenching around his hand as he coaxed her release with an unusual haste.

Troy settled himself up against her, waiting for the echoes of her orgasm to fade before he entered her. She appreciated that, breathing hard as she dragged a finger down the centerline of his chest. It pleased him to watch him shiver slightly under her touch. Troy pressed into her then, and she closed her eyes as an unrestrained moan was dragged from her lips.

Then it was just the two of them, moving slowly together. It was awkward at first, too many limbs failing about, Troy’s necklace caught the light and distracted her as it hung just over her face. But it felt good, being with him, and as the pace grew, heat dispelled anything between them but desire. As the pace grew, the awkwardness was dispelled, little by little, kiss by kiss.

Troy sped up, but caught her every once in a while, leaning in for kisses as things grew more heated. She hooked a leg around his waist, urging him deeper and that’s when the last of the restraint broke. With her encouragement, they tumbled quickly towards the end. Troy’s urgency grew as he started to pant, and each quick thrust became more powerful. She heard the headboard banging up against the wall, but there was nothing in her to care that someone might overhear. It was just a frenzy until Troy called out, stilling as he finally came. Once the first wave of it passed, he moved again slowly, working through the rest of it. Elle ran her hands over him, light fingertips tracing ghost lines in the contours of his muscles until he drew a hand up to his mouth to kiss.

Afterward, he got up and discarded the condom, then settled back into bed with her. For a moment that awkwardness was back between them, like the night of the baby monitor, and the closeness they’d woven took on a glass fragility. Elle did her best to dispel it, bestowing her sleepy smiles and kisses generously until Troy wrapped his arms around her and hugged her to his chest. There was little talk between them, but Elle was fine with that. They’d said enough for one night, one amazing night. She let them both drift off to sleep, after she finally turned out the lights.

#

Troy woke up the next morning in a room that smelled faintly of lavender and roses and was most definitely not his own. It took him a few seconds of disorientation for recognition to dawn. He was in Elle’s bed, completely naked under the softest blanket he’d ever felt. He would have taken the time to enjoy it, but he was alone in the bed, and that didn’t suit him.

Last night had been, well, everything he’d hoped for, more even. As he stood and stretched, he felt the goofy grin that sat solidly on his face. Elle. He was still smiling as he searched around for his boxer shorts, and slid into them. He hesitated for a moment, not sure how much of his clothes he should put back on. There was no desire to leave already, but he didn’t want to overstay his welcome.

Troy got dressed enough, but didn’t bother putting on the creased uniform pants or shirt. He’d have to go back to his own place, at least to brush his teeth and hair. First, he had to find Elle. There was no scent of coffee or other breakfast coming from the kitchen, so he didn’t look there first. It was so quiet that he wasn’t sure she was still in the apartment with him, but that didn’t worry him. If she wasn’t, he wouldn’t leave until she got back. It wouldn’t be right.

Fortunately, he wasn’t alone. Elle was sitting in the other bedroom, which looked like a cross between an office and a closet. She was still in her pajamas, yawning as she went through her emails. When she smiled up at Troy, it was like the sun breaking through clouds. He couldn’t help it, he smiled back at her with a grin he knew was silly — but perfectly honest and well-earned.

“Good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you up, Captain.”

“Nah,” Troy said, shaking his head. “Nice as it is to hear you call me that, I like it better when you call me by my name.”

“What’ the fun in that?” she asked, getting up and closing her laptop.

“You make it sound special,” he told her. Troy pulled her into his arms, feeling her curl up against him. Elle kissed him, her mouth softly sweet as it pressed against his own.

This was real, and he almost couldn’t believe it. There had been this awful dread when he was certain that he’d fucked it up beyond all belief, that he wouldn’t be able to work his way back to her good graces. That hadn’t happened. Instead he was hugging her to him, smelling the sweet scent of coconut in her hair and feeling himself start to get hard as she pressed warmly against him in his boxer shorts. He cleared his throat, hoping to forestall his erection before it became noticeable.

“So, if you aren’t busy, we could go get breakfast. After I head back to my place and shower,” Troy said, trying to clarify before she could think he was assuming too much.

“That sounds good. Do you want to come back in twenty minutes or so, and we can head out from there?” Elle asked.

Troy agreed, and with one more kiss, left to get dressed enough to go back to his own apartment. When he got into his shower, he realized he was still smiling.

#

It took him only two months of dating for him to start bringing Yasmin around again. Elle was glad — she really liked his daughter. They started doing things more as a group, and not just the two of them. Troy was good about it though, he always made time to do things as a couple, but she liked having Yasmin around.

She’d even gotten through meeting his parents, though that hadn’t been too bad. They were cautious — apparently they’d had differing opinions on Yasmin’s mother — but they weren’t unfriendly. Elle got the impression that they were reserving judgement for a time when they knew her better.

It was just a week after she’d met his parents, about three months after they’d started dating when they’d taken Yas out to dinner. She was sitting there, eating her fries and alternately coloring on the paper tablecloth with crayons provided just for that purpose when she looked up at Elle.

“Do you love Daddy?” she asked.

“Yes,” Elle replied, before Troy could interrupt them. Yasmin and Elle shared a smile. Troy reached across the table and took Elle’s hand in his. He waited to say it back to her until they were in private later.

#

Sixteen Months Later

Troy wasn’t expecting anyone to be in Elle’s old apartment, but he knew he wasn’t alone as soon as he closed the door. Most of the stuff in there had been boxed up or pushed aside, so it wasn’t hard to search through each room. When he got to the hallway, he paused, listening.

“You hiding?” he asked Elle as he walked into the second bedroom.

The room was almost completely untouched — it had been her request to do most of the packing herself, since most of it was for her business. She was sitting on the floor, with several make up cases open around her.

“No, not really. All right, a little,” she confessed, laughing as she looked up at him. She twisted opened a tube of lipstick, inspected it and then put it in a small box at her side.

Troy sat down to join her. She leaned over and kissed him in greeting, a sweet, scant graze across his lips that left him with a smile. He still loved those little kisses, the ones that were proof that they were committed, together; the kind of kisses that were extravagant for their mundanity.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“About marrying you? No. Just the whole production of a wedding seems a bit much. Romantic, but overwhelming,” Elle admitted. She sighed. “I’m happy, and tired and just…I wish it were over, but not. Do you know what I mean?”

He nodded. “I think so. It’s a lot of work preparing, and we’re moving and everything at the same time.”

After much discussion, they’d decided to build a new house together and move in right after they came back from the honeymoon. It was almost finished. They were visiting the site nearly every day to oversee the last few details. Yasmin had already made her plans for decorating her room clear, and Troy had made sure the walls were lavender. The dolphins he could add later, if she even still liked them when they moved in.

He had three weeks off, almost all of his yearly vacation time, but they were spending two weeks away and the next moving. Troy wondered at the wisdom of it now that the time was approaching, but it had seemed like a good idea when they’d just been planning it.

Elle bit her lip and he knew that if she was mentioning it, she was way more stressed about the wedding than she was letting on . Troy leaned in and kissed her again, then stood up and offered her his hand.

“Come on. We need a distraction,” he said.

“I have to finished packing,” she protested, “or start.” She looked around the room with that last bit, but Troy shook his head.

“Just one dance, Ellie,” he said, holding out a hand to her.

She took it with a smile and let him fold her into an embrace. It wasn’t like the waltz they’d learned for the wedding, or anything from the lessons they’d had. It was much more simple. Troy just held her and swayed, letting his phone play the same song until she tired of it. He closed his eyes, inhaling Elle’s sweet scent. For a moment they were in the eye of the storm, and he was happy.


	5. Bodies in the Kitchen - Johnny & Boss Cecee - T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen.”  
> Johnny/Cecee for Chyrstis

It was the middle of the goddamn night, and Cecee heard voices in the kitchen. Shit. She'd just had a new alarm installed in her house, and she'd paid good money for some of the best to test it out and make sure no one was robbing her. Some of those ex-cons were the best in their field. If she ever went legit, she'd pick up a few and have them test her security designs, or at least that was one of the careers she imagined for herself when she was done running the Saints. She couldn't run a gang for life.

Her life was about to get much shorter if the voices in the other room were here to do her any harm, because she could hear more than one voice. Cecee took the gun from under her pillow and got out of bed. A light had been turned on down the hallway and she was careful to let her eyes adjust gradually before attempting to get down the hall to see who it was. Whoever was in her house obviously wasn't scared of her, otherwise they'd be quiet and no lights would have ever alerted her to their presence.

"Look, the Boss wanted this unfortunate piece of shit dead, so here he is," she heard Johnny saying, just as Cecee pointed her gun around the corner into the kitchen.

"I don't know," Pierce said, and looked up to see Cecee, in her pajamas with a gun. She was extremely pissed now, because Johnny knew good and fucking well not to bring the evidence to her damn doorstep. She should have known it was him -- he was the only person other than her that could deactivate her security alarm.

"What the fuck, Johnny?" she asked, coming fully into the room. She was sleeping in a Stilwater U shirt, no pants and had her hair tied back. It wasn't her loveliest look, but right now she was glad she didn't have any silk pajamas or something nicer on to be ruined by the asshole bleeding on her kitchen floor.

"Sorry, I know he's messy, but look at this dead bitch right here, huh?" He looked so proud of himself it was like he'd done something out of the ordinary.

"Why is he here?"

"He led us all around the city before we finally got him. This is a whole night's work, Boss. Thought you'd want to see that the job was taken care of," Johnny explained.

"I told him no, but he insisted," Pierce put in. "Driving around with a dead dude is weird."

"No shit," Cecee agreed. She turned to Johnny and said, "You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen. Seriously. I just moved in here. I'm not redoing the floors already."

"It's marble. Shouldn't be a problem. When you pay for quality, it lasts," Johnny said, smiling at her.

Pierce chuckled at his statement, and though Cecee couldn't argue with it, she was still mad about the dead dude on her floor. She didn't feel like laughing, even if the guy now ruining her ability to eat in her kitchen had deserved his death.

"Just clean it up," Cecee said and went back to her room. "I don't want to smell him in the morning," she said over her shoulder. She heard Pierce grumbling as she closed her door and tried to go back to bed.


	6. A Fake Kiss? - Boss Amethyst/Luz - T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sorry that I got way too into playing house and accidentally kissed you passionately.”  
> amethyst/luz for chyrstis

Luz could feel the gaze of Amethyst before she turned around to face her, letting her hand linger on the closed door too long as a stalling tactic. She wasn't quite sure why she'd kissed Amethyst that way, but at the time they'd both seemed to enjoy it. They certainly hadn't stopped until the silence around them grew pointed, and the night hastened to a close by the sniffing disapproval of her relatives.

Her family wasn't happy with her these days, with no more Angelo around to protect her and keep her and by extension them, flowing in money and designer clothes. She had to work on her own after Manuel dropped her back in Stilwater and didn't even bother to change his phone number when he brushed her off. Look, she tried for him, Lord knows she tried, she had Amethyst steal him some cars, did all the work he asked though she was a terrible mule and always got stopped, but he still didn't come back for her. Eventually all the trying got to her, and she stopped. Now she had a crappy one bedroom apartment with no closet space, no dating life to speak of and a shitty job.

So of course her aunt and uncle wanted to stop by for a visit, and they knew just the right boy to bring with them. Someone to 'get to know' in the way they'd also encouraged her to get to know Angelo before she was even eighteen years old. When she told them she didn't want them to bring some strange man to her house, her uncle had laughingly asked her if she wasn't interested in men anymore, to which she'd said yes.

That's why Amethyst was here. She'd been shoe shopping in the expensive store where Luz worked now, and they'd started talking. Flirting really -- there had always been something between them even when Angelo was in the picture -- but never acted upon. Her focus had always been on Angelo, on pleasing him and looking the way he expected her to look. When that fell apart and Manuel had picked her up in that bar, she'd gone with him, not sparing a thought for Amethyst. Whatever vague flirtations they had didn't really matter at that point. She was practically homeless and needed a sure thing, wanted to leave Stilwater as it fell apart from the place she'd known.

But that was years ago now, and Amethyst hadn't looked the way she did now. She hadn't looked at Luz the way she did now, with a gaze heavy with too much meaning that she never wasted words saying. That day at the store, her smile was too honey-sweet to ignore, the light brush of her breasts on her arm as Amethyst just happened to lean over and pick up just that shoe, the one closest to her. The touch of her had sent electric shivers down her, and they'd barely even connected, but it had been enough for Luz to invite her to go to lunch on her too short break that day. Amethyst had laughed the first time they'd kissed, not at her but into her mouth, the soft mirth never quite stifled and leaving a grin on her face as she pulled away. Luz hadn't know what to make of her, just knew that Amethyst made her dizzy in a way Manuel and Angelo never had.

Now she was sitting on her couch, her face expectant as she waited for Luz to come back from the door. Dressed in a simple white and black sundress with a flaring skirt and some really killer sandals, Amethyst looked like the Southern Belle she was raised to be. Her dark red hair was perfectly curled into soft ringlets that spilled over the exposed warm brown skin of her shoulders and back. She was gorgeous, far more put together than Luz herself. Panic rose in Luz that made her breath come in short, shallow spurts. What was she supposed to say? How could she even begin to put a name to what Amethyst made her feel?

"Luz, darlin' what was that?" she asked softly, her drawling southern accent warm with amusement.

"Look, I'm sorry that I got way too into playing house and accidentally kissed you passionately. I didn't want my relatives to get the wrong idea or they'd start their scheming again and this would have been for nothing."

"What idea, exactly, was I supposed to get from that kiss? It's the second time we've kissed and you've acted like nothing happened. Quite frankly, I'm sick of it."

Luz looked up at her, not sure what to say. Amethyst's dark eyes were flinty, deadly, sure and Luz was unnerved on the focus on her, but couldn't look away. "Yes, I um, kissed you, because, well...ha."

Because you're even more than Hector and Angelo put together, but you make flowers grow between my thighs with the way you look at me. Because you look soft like silk and deadly as a knife in the gut and I want to feel it until you leave me, and yes you will leave, but I will worship you until you do. Because you smell like a rose garden and you kiss like a predator and I am so pathetically eager to know how you do everything else. Luz's mind ran away, far more poetic than her clumsy tongue and she realized she'd just stopped talking.

"Because you wanted to. Now darlin', if you'd like to do it again, I'm still here. If not, I'm getting up, going to Tee N' Ay and finding a much less enticing woman to kiss me to sleep tonight. It's your choice," Amethyst said.

Was it? Luz thought, but then she let it fly away. Sitting down next to Amethyst on the couch, she closed her eyes for a moment, aware of Amethyst's intent gaze and then opened her eyes. She wanted to see Amethyst as she kissed her again, this time for real, pulling her closer so she could press her lips to Amethyst's soft, red painted mouth. Luz might have mumbled the words, "don't leave" at some point, she was certainly trying to get them out, but she lost all clarity of thought as Amethyst laughed against her lips, eager hands pushing under the cheap black polyester of Luz's short skirt.


	7. Another Kiss - Amethyst/Luz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prompt for a starting with a kiss meant to be gentle, ending up in passion.  
> Boss Amethyst Palmer/Luz in SR2
> 
> I really do love these two in kiss prompts <3

She wasn’t sure what to do. This wasn’t like when Manuel or Angelo was disappointed or upset. Amethyst was, _different_. Her emotions weren’t as close to the surface as the more volatile Angelo or quite so basic as Manuel’s had been and Luz was unsure how to approach her, but history made her cautious.

“Amethyst,” she began, but stopped. She was pouting. The boss of the Saints, the most feared woman in all of Stilwater was pouting like a child, her lower lip jutting out so much it almost made Luz laugh. She stood on her toes to kiss those lips just so she wouldn’t look so sad anymore.

As soon as Luz’s mouth brushed over Amethyst’s full lips, the kiss was turned around on her and belonged to Amethyst. What was meant to be a comfort turned sharper and more heated as Amethyst’s hand clenched on Luz’s lower back, and she pressed her mouth more forcefully into the kiss. Luz’s tongue was coaxed out of her mouth by the teasing of Amethyst’s and before she was even aware she’d taken a step, her back was up against the wall as she tried to pull Amethyst closer.


	8. Secret Kisses -- Troy/Elle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elle/Troy - breaking the kiss to say something, staying so close that you’re murmuring into each other’s mouths
> 
> Set in SR1
> 
> prompted by chyrstis <3

“We’re gonna get caught,” Troy muttered, his lips still mostly pressed to hers. It had been a good week since he’d seen her, and longer than that since they’d been alone together.

In answer, Elle kissed him again, her fingers laced with his, her other hand running through his hair, drawing him closer. At least she’d missed him as much as he’d missed her, if her kiss was anything to go by.

“Julius is babysitting King,” she whispered when they separated for air, reminding him that the one person they were really hiding from wasn’t likely to show up.

The church always had someone in it, because it was their headquarters and they needed people going in and out at all times, people keeping watch.

“I missed you,” he breathed, hardly breaking the kiss this time. He felt her smile against his lips, and encouraged, pulled her closer to him. They were so entangled, he could feel her heart beating under her purple tank top.

It was Troy’s turn to do an overnight at the church. It wasn’t like there was a schedule or a signup sheet, but it happened every once in a while that the jobs he ran had to happen at night, and then he stayed to oversee the church. Usually it was Dex, who ran on about six hours of sleep and didn’t mind going to bed after the sun rose. He liked the quiet, or so he said.

But tonight it was Troy in the church, sending people in and out of the old building, trying not to listen to the way it creaked and splatters of rain that came in through the broken windows. It was still an abandoned church, even if they had moved in. 

Correction, it was Troy and Elle in the church, even though he knew he should send her out to deal with a few matters that had come up. Nothing was urgent enough to keep them from a real greeting, especially since he hadn’t even seen her in passing for days.

Her mouth descended upon his once again, and Troy angled himself to push her deeper into the corner of the room they were in. His hands slid over Elle’s slender hips, guiding them away from the bare lightbulb near the door and deeper into the darkness. This precaution was of no use, because two seconds later they heard footsteps overhead and broke apart. Voices floated down to them, and by the time anyone saw, she was sitting in a chair listening to Troy describe the latest situation they needed to deal with before it got out of hand.

They were not going to get caught.


	9. In the Oval - Amethyst/Pierce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Any pair (kiss prompts) - routine kisses where the other person presents their cheek/forehead for the hello/goodbye kiss without even looking up from what they’re doing
> 
> for chyrstis

The President was sitting behind her desk, looking out the window, but Pierce was sure she wasn’t seeing anything. Amethyst tried, she really did, taking everything she knew about life and politics and the way people think and applying it to government. But it wasn’t easy, he could see the strain of it as she sat and thought. Things happened so fast, and people scrutinized everything she did, more now than before because the entire world was watching.

“Well I’ll just have to go on, won’t I?” she said softly, turning back towards where her staff were assembled. “The American people are expecting me to say something, and I’m good at thinking on my feet.”

“No,” Pierce started to say, but she stood up. When the President stood, everyone else did too, and he buttoned his suit jacket.

She was, against his every plea, still going to give this ill-advised speech after all, when no one would blame her for canceling.

“Thank you, everyone. I believe the decision is made. If you’re going, I’ll see you there.”

“Thank you, Madame President,” came a chorus of murmurs as people started getting to their feet. Amethyst stopped in front of where he stood waiting.

“I need a new speech.”

“At the very least,” he agreed, sighing. “They started one already. I can see what they’ve got.”

“What an excellent idea,” she said, and he snickered. She was looking down at the old speech, before the morning news cycle demanded their attention and response. She was still reading, but as he moved to leave she presented her left cheek for him to kiss, and he did, out of habit, just like he had before they left the residence that morning.

“Pierce, sweetheart, make it good,” she said, the slight clipping of her drawling accent the only betrayal that she was worried.

“I always do, girl, you know that,” he answered, and then closed the door on her soft laughter, leaving her in the Oval Office alone.


End file.
